Mistaken Identity
by corneroffandom
Summary: Although Memo Montenegro witnesses a crime, he's not the one who becomes a target.


Memo Montenegro grins as he types up a quick tweet about a concert he's just now leaving, humming to himself as he sends it. The

music is still echoing in his ears and he feels so pleased with everything in his life now. His time in NXT beginning to pay off, knowing that his brother is champion in WWE, life in Florida finally just seeming to click for him, when-

He hears noise from a side building, his focus quickly diverting from his cell phone as the voices only get louder, the young man just barely managing to duck into a shadowy doorway when a dark car peels out of the small alleyway, barely missing him as it goes by. He gapes after it, instinctively reading the license plate before it disappears from sight, its hazardous turn resulting in a rough squeeching sound down the main road leading away from the arena. He's just stepped out of the doorway, feeling unsettled and shaky, when he hears more yells from where the car came from. "Someone call 911, they- they- they hurt my brother! Please!"

His eyes widen as he fumbles away from the text screen and immediately calls 911 before following the voice to see if he could possibly do anything to help, though he's not sure what he _could_ do. The sadness and fright in that voice doesn't sound fake or exaggerated, and his heart races as he walks towards the voice, kneeling by the pale girl sitting next to her unconscious brother. "He saved me," she chokes out, burying her face in her hands as he tries to determine what's going on with her brother, which he's reluctant to do since he has no real medical experience.

He tries to comfort her, his own jumbled thoughts going in circles as he reflects on the vehicle he'd seen the license plate of as it'd peeled out of the alley. Answering the questions from dispatch as best he can, he takes _her _cell phone out of the girl's trembling fingers and, after fumbling with her settings for awhile, finally finds a note feature on her phone, quickly typing what he remembers of the numbers and letters he'd seen. A partial plate is better than nothing, he figures, so he saves the note and quickly turns his attention back to the call, relieved when the police and EMTs come and take the situation off of his hands.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, shaking his head. It's an unsettling situation and all he wants to do is go home and call his brother, but first he has to go file a report. So he does, explaining how he'd happened to be out there and witnessed the tail end of the crime, the car driving away and what of its license plate he remembers.

The cops thank him, explain that they'll call if they have any further questions, and let him go. The very thought of returning to his apartment, alone, after all of this, makes him feel shaky and beyond uncomfortable so, when he gets into his car, he turns it towards the coast and drives to his brother's house, knowing that Alberto wouldn't want him to be alone on a night like tonight.

He doesn't realize just how late it is until he's already knocked, feeling a little ashamed as he hears steps padding around beyond the door, noticing when dark eyes finally peer out of the window. A moment later, the door's unlocked and opened to allow him in, Memo blinking when he comes face to face with Ricardo Rodriguez, Sofia Cortez standing behind him with an uncertain look on her tired face. "Lo siento," he whispers to his brother's best friend and ring announcer. "I didn't realize the time-"

Ricardo shakes his head, frowning out at him before reaching out and ushering him inside, surprised to find how hard he's trembling. "Don't worry about it, is something the matter?"

"I, um..." He glances from Sofia to Ricardo before shaking his head painfully. "I witnessed... a crime," he admits. "Had to issue a statement to the police. When I was done, I didn't feel like being alone so... I couldn't think of where else to go, so I came here."

Ricardo's face tightens as he digests all of this, turning to the housekeeper and resting a hand on her upper arm. "Go get El Patron, Sofia." As she nods, quietly scampering off to do just that, he turns back to his employer's brother and leads him to a couch in the living room. "Sit, Memo, por favor. Do you want something to drink while we wait for him?"

Alberto's brother hesitates for a moment before nodding, hoping that the trembling of his hands won't cause him to spill all over the furniture. "Eh, si, some water would be ok, gracias." Ricardo smiles faintly and nods, leaving him alone for a moment as he goes to the kitchen. Memo's dark eyes flicker around the room uncertainly as he considers how quickly the evening had gone south for him, the fun memories he'd have of that concert permanently ruined by what had followed it. The look on that poor woman's face as they'd waited for help to come for her brother, who thankfully had been alive when they'd come, though he hadn't regained consciousness.

He listens as footsteps approach the living room, only pausing when Ricardo returns with the water, Alberto meeting up with his ring announcer in the hallway. "What's going on?" he asks his best friend tiredly. "Memo's here?"

"Si, El Patron. He's fine, just... needs to talk, I think." He rests a hand on his best friend's shoulder as they enter the living room, Ricardo smiling comfortingly at the younger man before handing over the glass. "Here you go."

Memo nods at his brother's best friend before turning to the man himself. "Hermano," he sighs, immediately feeling safer. "Did I wake you? Lo siento, I wasn't sure where else to go-"

"It's fine, Memo," Alberto shrugs off his apology, resting a hand on the back of his neck and squeezing slightly, seeing his distress. "What's going on, hermanito? Are you alright?"

"Oh. Yes, yes, hermano, I'm ok. Physically." He sighs, picking at his pants as he stands up. "Um... I was at a concert earlier and... someone was attacked." When Alberto squints uncertainly at him, he sighs. "Outside of the arena. I had to... I had to give a statement to the police, and um. This girl was there, it was her brother. So... I came here. I didn't feel like being alone."

Alberto nods grimly, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "I see. I'm glad to have you, mi hermanito. You know you're always welcome. At any hour." He smiles faintly, looking around at Sofia. "Is the guest room prepared?" At her soft confirmation, he claps his brother on the arm. "See, no harm done, Memo. Whenever you're ready to sleep, there's a bed waiting for you. I can show you to the room if you want, or..." He takes a breath, looking at the haunted look in his sibling's eye, forcing himself to accept that he won't be able to get sleep immediately. "We can discuss what happened?"

Memo looks relieved at this, nodding. "Si, mi hermano, I would... would appreciate that." He glances around at Sofia and Ricardo and sighs, shaking his head. "But I don't want to disrupt everybody's sleep... it can wait until morning," he offers.

"No, I don't think you'd be able to sleep too peacefully right now, Memo. Tell us," Alberto urges him, lips twitching as both the housekeeper and his ring announcer find seats in the room, silently supporting his statement.

Little brother looks around at the three people, smiling slightly at the bonds his brother had made- and how they're slowly beginning to feel like _his_ bonds too, since he'd joined the WWE. Slumping back against the couch, he sighs and nods, explaining what he'd seen after leaving the concert. When he explains about everything he'd seen, Alberto reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, staying quiet as his brother continues to speak till the moment he'd arrived at his brother's doorstep. "That's all," he finally murmurs, sighing.

Sofia looks speechless and worried, Ricardo seems solemn, and Alberto feels sorry for the whole situation. "I'm glad you came here, hermanito. As you know, you're always welcome in my home, no matter what hour." He squeezes his brother's shoulder before standing, glancing from person to person. "But for now... I believe we should at least try to get some sleep. Memo, I'll put you in the guest room just down from mine. Ricardo will be nearby as well, that way."

His little brother nods, slumping in relief. "Gracias, hermano. I'm so tired," he admits, blinking slowly as Ricardo stands, as well. Slowly getting to his feet, he smiles at the housekeeper and ring announcer, waiting as his brother leads the way to the bedrooms and directing him to where his will be, next to Alberto's. He sighs, nodding at this before pushing the door open and inching inside. The bed looks so warm and welcoming, he almost collapses into it right then and there. "Muchas gracias, Alberto," he just manages to say before clicking the door shut behind him. "Buenas noches."

"Buenas noches," he hears through the door as he sinks into the sheets, which feel about as good as they look, and he smiles, relieved at his brother's hospitality and understanding. He may be in his mid-20s by now, but America is still a new place to him... it's nice to have relatives nearby that he can depend on.

The next morning, after one of Sofia's infamous breakfasts with his brother and Ricardo, the conversation light and simple, both sensing that the last thing Memo will want to talk about being what he'd seen the night before, he takes his leave of his brother's home, hugging his brother and smiling thankfully at the housekeeper and ring announcer. "Gracias for everything," he tells the three people. "This has been nice." He's still a little uncomfortable at the thought of being out in public after everything from the night before, but he also knows he can't disrupt his own life _or_ hold up his brother's day any further with odd fears.

"Yes it has been, mi hermanito. And remember, you're welcome here anytime," Alberto tells him with a small smile, leading him back towards his car as Ricardo and Sofia wave from the edge of the driveway. "Take care of yourself. We'll talk soon."

"Si, I'll see you soon, hermano." As he gets back into his car and waves at the trio before driving around the circular driveway leading out of his brother's house, he takes a breath. He's still unsettled, but knows he can't freeload on his brother for much longer, his pride not allowing it. It's a bit more difficult to be frightened in the light of day anyway, his lips twitching up into a faint smile as he drives back towards his apartment, to change clothes before heading in to NXT for some mid-week training that he and the other developmental wrestlers had scheduled.

To his relief, the rest of his day goes by smoothly. He doesn't mention what he'd seen the night before, only dwelling on it a time or two more whenever the police call during the next couple of days for clarification to his statement or to try a lineup, which yields nothing more than making him feel worse for the girl and her brother and how little help he's being, despite his best intentions.

Everyone from the police to Memo assumes that, in the time that's passed, the criminals had laid low until they could get away. It makes him feel even more unsettled, in case they could somehow recognize him, especially considering the company he works for and how much travel it sometimes calls for, not to mention the publicity, but there's nothing he can do about it, just be vigilant and hope for the best.

And it works. For awhile.

A couple of weeks after Memo had stayed at Alberto's house, Ricardo Rodriguez is out late, just leaving Full Sail University to go run errands, picking some things up for Sofia and dropping off some mail at the post office for his employer. Distracted by his own to-do list and how quickly the time when they'll have to leave for the next tour is coming up, he barely thinks about the presence he can feel nearby, passing it off as one of the rookies, anxious to leave the building as well. It's not until he's halfway to his car that he hears footsteps approaching him, expecting the person to pass him by, but it doesn't happen- instead they speed up and... he's just about to turn around, find out what whoever it is wants, when something hard slams into his skull and sends him crashing into the ground, his surroundings wavering before going dark, all awareness leaving him.

He feels like he's drowning in darkness for a very long time and, when he comes to, it's not much brighter, but he can now hear voices. Arguing. He tries to focus through the throbbing headache he's fighting through, when... "You fool! This is not him! You can't do anything right!"

"What do you mean?! He was at the building you told me about, and he _looks _like-"

"Your night vision sucks, fool! He looks nothing like that punk who spotted our car!"

Ricardo whimpers softly, freezing as the arguing immediately stops, footsteps shuffling closer to him. "Fantastic! He's awake now!" There's a sound of flesh impacting with flesh and someone grunts, landing heavily against something, knocking whatever it is over as they fall the rest of the way to the floor. "What do we do with him then?"

"He's worthless, we should-" The words are cut off by the sound of further hits, the man who'd tried to speak grunting in pain as he slides once more to the floor.

"No one asked you, you got us in this mess to begin with. Shut up and sit down, I'll deal with you later." The owner of this new voice storms over to Ricardo and grips his jaw, forcing him to look up. He whimpers through a gag, unable to see anything through the thick black fabric covering his eyes, a thrill of horror brushing down his spine as hot breaths ghost against his face. "So who are you, then? Hmm?"

He grunts through the gag as his jaw is gripped roughly, his face turned left to right as he's examined. _El Patron,_ he thinks, tears pooling in his eyes and drenching the blindfold. _I think- I think... these are the criminals Memo saw... they didn't escape..._ His fingers curl tightly around the arms of the chair he's tied to, nails digging into the uneven wood, the hands releasing him none-too-gently as footsteps walk away from him, leaving him tense and sore. The words he hears sends a chill down his spine.

"I swear I know him from somewhere. I just can't place where." The voice inches closer and slaps his face, causing Ricardo to release a muffled whimper as the fabric in his mouth shifts painfully. "Undo his gag, maybe if we... question him just so... he'll tell us."

They're far from careful, leaving him groaning as the fabric scrapes roughly against his gums and teeth, leaving him certain that he'll need some serious dental work if he ever gets out of here. His jaw is gripped tightly yet again, face lifted up, and he breathes heavily, feeling dizzy and weary. He rambles in Spanish, not entirely sure what he's saying, just desperate to be freed, return home, when something hard impacts with the side of his face, making his ears ring as tears fill his eyes once more.

"Who are you?" the rough voice of his captor demands, tangling roughly in his hair and pulling his face up yet again. "Answer and this'll go a _lot_ easier for you."

Ricardo whimpers faintly before shaking his head, knowing to do so would be to put these men on Alberto's path, and worse, Memo's. "No," he says lowly. His head whips back when he's punched, gasping painfully as the chair he's held against tips, almost falls over. "I won't- I won't..." Another hit to the face and the only thing keeping him upright this time is a rough grip on the arms of the chair, his captor's hands biting into his wrists. "Por favor, stop-"

"Talk and we will," the voice responds, throwing another punch, this time to his midsection and he collapses forward as far as he can, considering the binds holding him tightly. "Who are you?!"

Ricardo grunts, blood already dripping down a cut on his jaw, but he stays quiet, shaking his head even when the chair finally tips over, the criminals kicking every inch of him they can touch as they continue snarling down at him, demanding information about the man laying at their feet, blind and unable to speak as pain throbs through his already taxed body. He's wavering on unconsciousness when... "El Patron," he begs quietly, going limp a moment later.

"What did he say? Was that... Spanish?" one of the captors demands, looking around for clarification as the men around him shrug, the term not registering with any of them. "I swear I've heard that from somewhere... I just can't..." He stares at the unconscious man when realization seems to click with him. "Wait a minute..."

Alberto paces back and forth, Sofia frowning at him as he stares down at his phone, eyes dark and narrowed with worry. "Where is he?" he snaps, grimacing as he brushes fingers through his hair. "Ricardo, maldita sea, what is going on?" He continues to pace even faster, shaking his head as more time passes, it ticking past midnight. "This is not right, he... he should've been home long ago." He looks up at her. "What should I do?" Police won't do anything until someone's missing for a full day, but there's a sinking feeling deep in Del Rio's gut and he just knows... his friend is in major trouble.

She rests a hand on his arm, trying to sooth him somehow, though she's as distraught as he seems at the prospect of something happening to the ring announcer. "Senor, he's intelligent... I'm sure, whatever's going on, he'll find a way to contact us if he needs our help."

Alberto nods. "You're right," he murmurs. "I know you are. I just hope it's soon." But his wishes fall on deaf ears, minutes turning into hours, daylight slowly seeping into the house as he stares out of the windows, watching for Ricardo's car to appear in his driveway, the phone to ring, _something._

When a car _does_ pull onto his property, it's his brother's, and Memo looks frantic as he rushes up to the door, Alberto quickly answering to find out what's wrong now with him, still flooded by worries for his ring announcer. "Hermano!" he cries out, grabbing the older man by his shirt. "Lo siento, lo siento... It's all my fault!"

Del Rio gapes at him, holding onto his wrists to try to break his grip. "What are you talking about, Memo?! What is?" he demands, dragging him into the house as he all but hyperventilates, tears in his eyes. "Sofia, get him some water," he orders, spotting the lurking, scared housekeeper. When she bustles off, he sits his little brother down on the couch and looks at him. "Breathe, Memo. What's going on?"

"A call was forwarded to me while I was at Full Sail just now," he chokes out. "Mi hermano, they have him. They have Ricardo." At Alberto's fearful, confused glance, Memo hastens to explain. "The- the men I saw attacking those people. They must've known we were associated, and- and they took him. I'm so sorry, it's all my fault-" he continues to babble, looking from his brother to Sofia as she waits with a glass, eyes wide as she freezes and stares at him.

Del Rio sits down heavily and shakes his head, not comprehending this in a flood of fear and disbelief. Finally he croaks out, "What do they want?"

"They didn't say," he whispers. "I told the assistant at Full Sail who answered the call to give them my cell phone number if they call again, and she agreed. So... we should know... eventually." He stares at the phone held tightly in his fist with some trepidation before settling it down on the table. "Maybe- maybe we should call the police."

Alberto thinks about it, stares at the phone, glances from his brother to the still frozen housekeeper. He stands and takes the water from her, easing her over to the couch with soft murmurs where she slumps down bonelessly next to his brother. Pushes the glass off on his brother before taking his own seat once more, running his hands through his slicked back dark hair. "No," he finally mutters. "More than likely one of their demands will be _no police. _I will not risk Ricardo's life by being too hasty. Let's wait for the call, we'll take things from there."

Memo nods, not wanting to argue with his brother's deduction, and the men and Sofia fall silent once more, watching the cell phone as if staring at it will make it ring faster. Hours seem to pass before it finally goes off, all of them tensing as Memo stares at his brother, hesitantly reaching out for it. At Del Rio's nod, he places it on speakerphone and coughs, wishing he sounded stronger than he felt. "Hello?"

"Let me guess, Memo Montenegro?" a gruff voice asks, all three of them immediately listening intently, trying to suss out any hint from the background noise that Ricardo is there, preferably aware and mostly healthy. "Is your big brother, Alberto Del Rio, there? Hm?"

"Si, I am here. What do you want? Is Ricardo alright?" he demands, sitting forward and glaring a hole into the phone. "I want to speak to him. Right now."

"You're not the one making demands here," the voice snaps back, already sounding impatient with the proud, impatient Mexican aristocrat. Sofia reaches out and squeezes his hand, her fingers trembling. "This is how this is going to play out." He waits to see if anything will be said, if Alberto will overreach again, but nothing happens. The smirk on his lips is obvious in his voice. "No police, of course, and if we see anything out of the ordinary, you'll never see your little ring announcer ever again."

Alberto gives it a moment and, when nothing else is said, tries again. "What do you want then?" he grits out, trying not to sound too aggressive, anger the abductor any further. Sofia squeezes his hand and nods encouragingly when he looks over at her.

"That's better. Not great, but a little better." The criminal is obviously stalling to annoy Del Rio, his egotistical tone multiplying with each word as he enjoys having the upperhand in everything. "Now then. I understand you're quite rich, with many connections that could be useful for me. First and foremost, I want money. How much can you get your hands on in twenty four hours?"

Alberto tries to think, not wanting to overdo it but also not shortchange things, cause the man on the other end to become disgusted and hang up, or take it out on Ricardo. "A hundred thousand?" he mutters, brow furrowed as he tries to remember his bank's limit in daily withdrawls.

There's a long pause and all three of them grow more and more tense, certain that he'd hung up. "I suppose that'll do," he mumbles. "For now. I also want a safe way to get out of the States without the police knowing."

Del Rio closes his eyes. _Of course you do,_ he thinks murderously. "I can get a private jet, and make sure that the flight plan is altered convincingly," he grits out, hating himself for even suggesting such a thing. "Anything else?"

"If I think of anything else, I'll be sure to let you know." There's a soft shuffling sound, Del Rio sure that he's hung up, when everything changes in a split second.

"El Patron..." a strangled voice chokes out, all three people in the living room gasping as Del Rio lunges for the phone, staring at it like it's a lifeline. "El- El Patron?"

"Ricardo!" Alberto gasps out, leaning on his knees in front of the table as he holds the phone in shaking hands. "Are you- are you- ok?" he finally forces out. "What have they done?"

There's a long pause and Sofia exchanges a glance with Memo, Alberto gripping the phone hard enough to break it. "I'm scared, El Patron," Ricardo finally breathes out and the housekeeper sobs brokenly, muffling herself as well as she can behind her hands, not wanting him to hear her like that.

"It'll be ok, I swear, amigo. We'll get you out of there, you're going to be just fine." He's barely gotten the words out when there's a rough click, the cell phone flashing _call ended_ at him. He stares at it blankly, his ring announcer's last claim echoing through his head. "Ricardo," he breathes.

Sofia moves quickly, wrapping her arms around her distraught employer and hugging him from behind desperately. As he pats her arm numbly, Memo sits blankly on the couch, staring at his phone still gripped tightly in his brother's hand. "Hermano, I- I'm so sorry," he chokes out. "This is- this is all my fault..."

"No," Del Rio finally mutters. "It's... no one's fault. We just have to... get him out of there, back here where he's safe. It, it'll be fine." He fishes his own phone out of his pocket and, with one final squeeze to Sofia's arm, walks off to deal with the bank and what else is needed to book the private plane.

Sofia still at his feet, Memo rests a hand on her shoulder and rubs at the tense muscles under her simple navy dress, simply needing something to do, anything to focus on that isn't the repetitive guilty ruminations filling his head. They're still sitting like that when Alberto returns, his lips pursed. "Did everything go alright, Hermano?"

"Yes, it's set up." He falls into mumbling in Spanish, staring at his phone with a strange look in his dark eyes. "In case."

Memo and Sofia exchange an uncomfortable glance before he approaches his brother. "In... in case? Hermano, in case what?"

Alberto hears him, finally looks up. "These perros," he says, sounding more like his old self than he has since this all began. "If they think I'm going to let them go with any of my money, get away easily, without paying for what they've done to Ricardo, to you, Memo, to that girl and her brother, and who knows who all else... they are wrong. The money and the airplane may be prepared, but it is Plan B. For now, we try Plan A."

Memo shakes his head, not understanding. "What... what is Plan A, hermano?"

Alberto grins darkly, worrying both his brother and housekeeper.

Ricardo is sitting slumped in a chair, his hair tickling every part of his face not covered in gag or blindfold, his hands tied tightly to the arms of the chair with zipties. He vaguely remembers hearing his employer's voice through the haze of fear and pain he's currently drowning in. Tears soak the rough fabric blocking his vision and he stiffens as footsteps approach him, voices of the three men holding him growing louder, angry, impatient words adding to his anxiety.

"What'll we do with _him_ if his 'El Patron' doesn't come through?" one of the voices demands, all other conversations dying away as he breathes heavily, three pairs of eyes locked on his defenseless form. Rough hands dig into his hair, forcing his face up as they mumble around him, blood rushing in his ears so loudly that he can't understand what they say.

Until, that is, the hand releases him carelessly, his neck snapping back down until his jaw rests on his chest. "What do you think?" another voice asks, suddenly very clear and loud as hot breaths trail across his skin, the criminal leaning down until he's at Ricardo's ear level, obviously to add to his visible fear. "We'll kill him."

Ricardo shudders, fresh tears filling his eyes. "El Patron," he forces out in a whimper, words muffled by the gag. "El Patron..."

Del Rio stares at his brother's phone, Memo himself fast asleep on the couch as the night time hours pass by painfully slowly. He has no doubt that the men will call again, many things left up in the air. He has the money and the airplane squared away, just in case, but no idea where the items are supposed to go, so they _have_ to contact him if they truly want these things. As he waits, his ring announcer's trembling voice echoes in his mind and he closes his eyes, pressing his thumbs against his nose. "Por favor, Ricardo, hang in there... it'll be over soon," he promises softly.

He's just starting to doze off, his eyes too heavy and gritty to keep open, when the phone rings loudly in his hand, Memo jostling awake behind him as he reaches for the ringing device. Del Rio grips his hand in midair, however, roughly shaking his head at him, before he presses the speakerphone button. "Yes?"

"Do you have what I requested?" the voice of the man he'd spoke to hours ago snaps through the phone.

"Yes. How am I supposed to get it to you?"

There's a period of torturous silence and Del Rio swallows, his hands tightening around the phone as he struggles to remain patient. "There's a set of storage lockers at the train station downtown. Know what I'm talking about?"

Del Rio thinks for a moment, trying to envision the building he'd only driven by a time or two while running errands with Ricardo between events. "On 7th Street?"

"Put the money and the address, along with anything else needed to gain access to the plane in locker 384 in an hour, and as soon as we see that it's all there and we're on the plane, we'll call you with an address. You do anything to mess this up, and remember-"

"I know," he grits out through painfully grinding teeth, not wanting to hear the threats towards his best friend yet again. "It'll be waiting for you." The phone clicks in his ear then and he sighs, looking up at his brother. "It'll be over soon," he promises. "For both of you, mi hermanitos. Just hang in there a little longer, Ricardo, por favor."

Memo dozes back off quickly but he's drawn back to consciousness as his brother clicks the door open. He blinks tiredly and looks around, realizing he's now alone. Only the sound of Del Rio's engine brings him to the window, throat going dry as he realizes that his brother is leaving, what it must all mean. "No, no," he swallows. "Mi hermano..."

Alberto stands in front of the locker, staring down at the bag of things the criminals had demanded. He says a soft prayer in Spanish over it, hoping for the safe return of his best friend and ring announcer before settling it inside, shutting the door securely on it and listening as the locks click into place. "Por favor," he breathes out before turning back towards his car.

He's just ducked inside, about to drive away, when he hears another engine and freezes, looking up. He knows it's too soon for the men who have Ricardo to arrive, he'd come here very early to scope the place out, make sure it wasn't some sort of a trap before he'd placed the items in the locker. When he actually sees who it is, he nearly goes catatonic in rage. "Memo!" he snarls at his little brother as soon as he gets out of the car. "What are you doing, trying to get mi mejor amigo _killed?_ Leave!"

"No, no," he cries out, feeling even worse as the gravity of what he could be doing hits him hard. "I just- I can't let you shoulder all of this alone, mi hermano. This is my responsibility, they took Ricardo because of me! I can't let these criminals walk away with so much of your money as well-"

"It's not your responsibility!" Alberto yells back, clenching his hand into a fist as the tension and sleepless nights begin wearing at him all the more. "And they will _not!"_ Both brothers fall silent, staring at each other, as Memo shudders at his brother's anger. "I am not letting those perros get away with anything, my money, freedom, _or_ Ricardo's life... it is a trap," he says lowly, staring at his brother. "If you truly want to help, then get back in your car and drive away. Now."

Memo has so many questions, but he knows by the look in his brother's eyes that it'd be pure lunacy not to listen to him when he's determined to see whatever he's planning through. "Si, hermano. Be safe," he pleads before all but diving back into his car and peeling away, praying as well for his brother and the ring announcer's safety. But he doesn't go too far, stopping a few blocks away after turning down a side street. He can't leave the scene, not completely. If his brother should need him... he'll be near. Just in case.

Alberto, ironically enough, drives off but takes a couple of quick turns, ending up on the opposite side of the train station. Although the lockers are blocked from sight at this angle, both entrances are visible and he sits and waits, eyes narrowed as he watches for any vehicle to come through. Soon enough, a nondescript truck, black and quiet, pulls up and drives out of sight. When it returns less than two minutes later, Del Rio nods grimly and eases back onto the street, taking the long way around to the main road, where he pulls in three cars behind it. "Try to get away from me now, perro," he breathes, determined to find his friend and get him to safety. He doesn't even care about the money, but the last thing he will allow is any of them reaching the airplane in one piece. For that woman and her brother, for Memo, and especially for Ricardo.

He follows from a distance, hoping that they continue to be blissfully unaware of his following them downtown, until they drive by a rundown building and... he loses track of them. Breath seizing in his throat, he looks around as discreetly as possible, hoping to catch sight of them somehow between some of these buildings. "Dammit!" he hisses, afraid that he'd failed Ricardo. When his phone rings a minute later, he almost jumps through the roof of his car, certain that it's them, that he's been spotted and they're about to make him listen to Ricardo's last minutes as payback. "What?" he demands as soon as he's answered through handsfree, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel, close to hyperventilating.

"Hermano, they're in a building on the corner of the street you're driving down right now," Memo's voice cuts through the fog in his brain, leaving him floundering as he gapes at his phone. "I'm watching them _and _you right now." He falls silent, breathing heavily into the phone. "Did you hear me?"

Alberto closes his eyes for a moment before opening them, focusing on the road ahead of him. "Where are you? I told you to leave." But as he drives closer to the building that Memo had indicated, he sees his brother's car parked carefully hidden between two neighboring buildings and he slowly turns onto an opposing side street before he drives past the building, coming to a stop in an abandoned parking lot a few doors down. "Never mind, I saw you. Hermanito, are you sure... that's where they're at? Where Ricardo is at?"

"Si," Memo says softly, releasing a soft breath that crackles in Alberto's ear. "It has to be. The car stopped there, along the side, and I saw the driver enter the building with your bag of money." They pause and consider this, both brothers' minds working a mile a minute. "Mi Hermano... I want to help you rescue Ricardo."

Alberto swallows. Blinks. "Que? Guillermo... I don't know what you think you can do, they want to _kill_ you, to keep you from being able to identify them, or testify. I can't allow you to..."

"I'm not asking permission, Hermano. I can't let you handle these men alone, I'm the one who started this... I have to see it through. They only have Ricardo because they wanted to get to me. Por favor, I _need_ to help him. I will not be the reason you lose your best friend."

Alberto is floored by his brother's determination, feeling choked up. "Hermanito, I understand how you feel. But Ricardo, he wouldn't want to be the reason I lose my baby brother either..."

"You won't," Memo says. "I'm going to help you, and you won't lose either of us. I promise, hermano. There are three of them, you cannot face them alone. Same as you can't lose me or Ricardo, neither of us can lose you. And that's what may happen if you don't allow me to help you. What would Ricardo do then? Or I, because if they find you, they kill you _and_ they kill him. How am I supposed to live with that?"

Alberto hates the desperation in his brother's voice, it echoing the same tone in his ring announcer's voice the few words he'd gotten out the last time they let him talk. It's maddening and goes against everything he'd ever been taught- it being his job as the older to ensure his brother's safety first and foremost, but... "Fine, Hermanito. Fine. We'll try it your way," he whispers, feeling lost in a sea of pain and horror at the thought of his ring announcer _and_ brother alongside him in unthinkable danger. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I will. And you as well." They go silent for a few moments as the weight of what they're about to do settles on their shoulders, Memo breathing softly in his brother's ear. "Are you ready to save tu mejor amigo, hermano?"

"Si." Activating their blue tooths as one, the brothers get out of their cars and venture towards the building at opposite sides. "When I find Ricardo, I'll... say salvo. And you get out of there, mi hermanito. Understand?"

"Si, I will. And Hermano?" Memo closes his eyes for a moment as he catches a glimpse of his brother's shadow approaching the building, before disappearing from sight. "Be careful." It's the last thing either say to the other before falling silent, not wanting the men to overhear them. They can hear each other's breaths, but nothing more. Memo's role is of distraction, his steps silent and careful as he approaches the window opposite of where Del Rio is heading, rapping sharply on it before ducking and running for the other side of the building, holding his breath as he begins his part of the plan. _Good luck, mi hermano_.

Del Rio takes a deep breath before locating a cracked window, its lock all but dust as he presses against it, feeling it give under his determination. When it bends and opens inward, he has to smile just a little, before focusing once more on the danger ahead. Scrambling as quietly as possible, he grips the sill and drags himself upwards enough to hook one leg over it, dragging the rest of his body up momentarily. The area inside is blissfully silent, lifeless, as he examines it. Upon dropping down to the floor, he finds himself surrounded by graffiti tagging the walls and trash scattered around his feet, beer bottles and fast food wrappers, along with who-knows-what-else. He grimaces at the thought of poor Ricardo stuck somewhere like this for so long and vows, as soon as it's all concluded, to get them all full medical exams.

Thankfully the building isn't too huge, there only being a few rooms, and he quietly pads around, listening for the criminals just in case Memo can't distract them well enough. Growing all the more desperate to find Ricardo quickly so his brother doesn't have to continue risking himself, he pushes on a door and swallows upon finding it locked. He takes a few steps back, lunging forward and shouldering it as hard as he can. It takes a time or two to attempt before it finally gives, allowing him to slip inside. But the room is empty and his heart sinks. _Where are you, mi amigo?_

The next room is a bust as well, but he knows he has it as soon as he gains access to the third, lights dazzling his vision as soon as he kicks the door in. On top of that, a very startled man is there to greet him, gaping at him in shock for a moment before lunging for the gun waiting on a nearby table. Alberto only takes a moment, however, before racing across the room and cracking the man in the skull with an awkward enzuigiri. He lands with an grunt on the floor but quickly pulls himself upright, that moment earlier being all he'd needed to spot Ricardo held tightly to a chair, zipties biting into his wrists. Not wanting any interruptions or to get attacked while his back is turned, he first kicks the other man in the side, then head once more, before grabbing the gun and bringing it with him. Just in case.

"Mi amigo, mi amigo," he breathes, kneeling down by the motionless younger man. "Oh, Ricardo," he winces, taking in bruises on his face and welts on his arms from the zipties, wondering what other injuries his clothes could be hiding. "You're safe, I'm here." He checks on the downed man across the room before quickly undoing the gag and blindfold, surprised to find his best friend's eyes open a slit. "Can you hear me?" he demands, quickly looking around the room for something sharp to cut him free from the chair.

"El Patron," he whimpers. "El Patron... shouldn't... be here..." Their eyes lock, Alberto's heart pounding at just how weak and wet Ricardo's are. "Leave... save yourself, por favor..."

"Not without you, mi amigo. Never without you. Now come, shhhh." He once more checks on the unconscious individual before digging around in his pockets for something, anything sharp, breath seizing as he finds a pocket knife. "Ay, gracias a dio," he breathes, rushing back to Ricardo. "You're going to be fine, Ricardo. Look, I've found a knife," he says softly, sawing at the hard plastic holding him tightly to the arms of the chair. "We're all going to get out of this, mi amigo. You, me, Memo... everything will be fine."

Ricardo says nothing for a long moment and Alberto thinks perhaps he's sunk back under once more, but then he groans out, "Memo? He... he isn't here... is he?"

"Si, amigo, we both wanted to ensure your safety," he tells him softly, hissing out in relief when the first ziptie finally gives. As he dives for the second ziptie, however, uncomfortably aware of how long this is taking, Ricardo shakes his head in growing distress. "What's wrong, mi amigo?"

"No, no," he keens, sounding close to tears. "Neither of you should... I'm not worth it. Please, find him and go- get out of here- They'll kill you both if they find you!"

Alberto's motions with the knife stops abruptly as he gapes up at his best friend, his chest hurting at the pain in his voice, his eyes. "Or they will definitely kill you, mi amigo. I can't allow that, and neither can Memo. I almost have you free, just please- trust in me... it will all be over with soon."

Ricardo's hitching breaths tear through Alberto as steadily as the knife makes its way through the hard plastic, tears dripping down on the older Mexican's arm every time he gets near enough. "El Patron," he whispers shakily, lips trembling. "Por favor... por favor..."

"Almost done, Ricardo. Just hang on," he murmurs back, relieved to feel the ziptie cracking under his fingers. Another couple of back and forths with the knife and finally it gives, Ricardo sobbing harder as his hand is finally relieved of its bind. "You're ok, you're fine now." He cups the back of his friend's head and pulls him closer, stroking his fingers through his hair as he helps him stand. "Come, now. We need to go."

"Memo," he murmurs shakily, using what little of his strength is left to cling to his employer, stop him from leaving so quickly. "Memo can't be left here-"

"He won't, he'll get out," Alberto insists, trying to pull him towards the exit. "He'll- he'll get out of here, I promise you. But right now, I need to get _you_ out of here. Ok? Por favor, mi amigo-" Finally Ricardo stops struggling and follows his employer through the spacious building, stumbling and growing weaker each time. "Almost there, almost there," he keeps chanting, hoping that Ricardo will be able to make it to the outside. Finally he hits the door and pulls it open, helping his best friend out to the gravel surrounding the sidewalk leading to the parking lot. "Memo's car is closer," he pants, "we'll go to it. Si? Come, come."

Ricardo stops him, however, when he clings to his sleeves and groans weakly, the race to get out of the building draining him of what little had been left of his energy. "I- I can't, El Patron... it's too far." He looks close to collapse, pale under the multitude of bruises covering his face, and breathless, and Alberto's heart skips a beat. "Lo siento, it... it..."

"No," Del Rio says, gritting his teeth. "You'll get there if I have to carry you, mi amigo." He grabs Ricardo by the arm and drapes it over his shoulders, helping the man as quickly as he can down the sidewalk and into the shadow of the buildings as they somehow make it two doors down to where Memo's car is parked, his older brother holding his breath as he struggles to open it. "Gracias, mi hermanito," he breathes upon finding it unlocked, settling Ricardo in the backseat and sliding in next to him. "You're going to be fine, mi amigo." He pulls Ricardo down until he's laying across the seats, his head resting in Del Rio's lap. "Catch your breath, rest. Everything will- will be fine." As he absently strokes the dark hair off of Ricardo's forehead, he looks up and out through the windshield, hoping that the last stage of their plan will succeed.

He's still sitting there, watching each and every car that goes by with a paranoid glower, wondering, hoping... praying... when Ricardo stirs under his fingers. "El Patron," he beseeches the older man, reaching out for him. "El Patron, por favor, go. Find Memo. Find your little brother." His begs get louder, all the more desperate, tears filling his eyes. "He's here to help me, I'd- never... forgive myself if he- if you lost your hermanito because of me. Go, I'll be fine."

Finally Ricardo's pleads break down what little of Del Rio's patience remains and he carefully eases the ring announcer up, sliding out from under him. "Fine, fine, Ricardo. Shhhhh... I'm going." He's just settled the younger man down on the seat, forcing the door open and about to slide out to run back and find his brother, bring him to safety, when they both hear footsteps rushing for the car, Del Rio freezing as he fears- for the first time since leaving the building- that the criminals had found them, that their plan had fallen apart. He hovers protectively over Ricardo, glaring through the windshield, scared to move even an inch, when the driver's side door opens and a familiar form slips behind the steering wheel, hands shaking and head lowered over the dash as he struggles to catch his breath too. Alberto blinks a time or two before hissing, "Memo?!"

"Hermano?" Memo sputters out, twisting around wildly in his seat before coming face to face with his brother. He releases a ragged, relieved breath. "Did you- I mean, where's Ricardo?" His whole face changes once more, drowning in relief, as Alberto sits up and helps Ricardo to do the same, supporting him with a solid hand on his back. "Ay, gracias a dio," he breathes out, reaching out for the ring announcer, trembling head to toe. Ricardo isn't much better off as he meets him halfway, squeezing his hands as the three of them absorb this moment, after so much tension it's almost impossible to just relax, believe that they will be fine from here.

They're still sitting there, Alberto rubbing soft circles in Ricardo's shoulders as Memo holds onto his hands, both men mumbling to each other in Spanish about what had happened, when a loud knock sounds on the driver's window, causing ring announcer and brother both to gasp and jerk away from the noise, until a voice calls through the glass. "Tampa police, exit the vehicle please!" He's holding his badge and ID against the car window and Del Rio squints at it as Ricardo clings to his shirt, Memo waiting with baited breath.

"I've spoken to him on the phone before," Del Rio concedes after a tense moment. "Go, Memo. We'll be right behind you." He feels horrible, having to drag Ricardo, still weak and off-balanced after all that he'd endured, out of the car to the cool night air, but it needs done as they come face to face with the officer who'd answered the distress call he had instructed Memo to place before they'd even approached the building. "Officer," he greets him, one hand resting on Ricardo's shoulder and the other under his arm, holding him steady as he stares at the police. "I believe we've talked on the phone regarding my brother's statement in the past."

"Alberto Del Rio, then?" the man asks, confirming it as he makes notes on his pad. "Yes, I recall." He looks from man to man, eyes softening slightly when he sees Ricardo's condition. "I won't keep you, I just want to ask a couple of quick questions, while things are fresh in your mind. He can sit in the car, if he needs to." Alberto nods in thanks and eases the younger man back into the driver's seat, sitting sideways with his feet resting on the ground so he can look out at them as he tries to focus on what's being said. "The men we captured in the building were holding Ricardo Rodriguez hostage, is that correct?"

"Yes," Alberto says, hand resting on Ricardo's shoulder. "I received a call from them yesterday. They demanded no police or they would kill him."

"So you took matters into your own hands," the officer says, visibly unimpressed with this part of the matter.

"And I would do it again," Del Rio answers, staring at the police stubbornly. "Either way, they could've killed him, police or no, ransom or no. I ensured he got out safely." He loses interest in what the man says after that, turning his focus back to the quiet ring announcer. Memo answers a few questions before Alberto speaks up again, his impatience quickly growing. "May we go now? Mi amigo needs rest and to be examined by a doctor."

"Fine," he finally concedes, taking in the exhaustion in Ricardo's eyes, slump to his shoulders. "We'll need you to come to the station ASAP to give full statements, however." He hands out cards with the station's address and phone number, and his own cell number, before turning back to the building to deal with the last of the transfer of the men they'd captured and roping off the crime scene.

Alberto sighs in relief before turning to look at his brother and ring announcer. "Let's get out of here," he whispers, leaning over to help Ricardo once more to his feet. "Just a moment, mi amigo," he breathes against his hair as he supports him, Memo quickly opening the back door. "There, careful, careful." He guides him down once more, following him into the backseat, and adjusts him until he's leaning against his chest, Del Rio's fingers running through his hair as he blinks lazily. "We'll be home soon, mi amigo. Just hang on a little longer."

"You both saved me," he murmurs before falling into a fretful doze, his hands twitching against Alberto's arm as they begin to drive once more through the dark Florida streets, the brothers exchanging a glance in the rearview mirror.

By the time they arrive home, he'd jerked himself awake, floundering in the shadows until Del Rio could sooth him, convince him that he's safe. He's staring ahead, eyes wide with fright and anxiety, until Memo kills the engine in front of the house, Alberto leaning down until they're side by side, breathing against Ricardo's forehead. "Amigo, look. We're home. Sofia will be so happy to see you." He had texted her while Ricardo had been asleep, not wanting to give the woman a heart attack when they arrive with the worn down ring announcer, and he could _hear _the emotions in her text back in all Spanish urging him to get the younger man home quickly.

Ricardo sniffs, staring up at the big house in near disbelief. "Sofia," he breathes out, lips trembling. "I've missed her."

"And she's missed you, amigo," Alberto tells him quietly, slipping out of the car and reaching in to help him out. "Careful, careful." He guides the younger man up the path to the house, Memo shuffling along behind them, all of them exhausted and worn after the past few days, though he knows Ricardo's got to be feeling the worst of the three of them. _I still have to call my physician, see if he'll do a late housecall... I'm sure he will, with enough of a financial bonus..._

They've barely made it to the door when it's pulled open, all three of them dazed by the lights in the house pouring out onto them, casting shadows onto the walkpath. Alberto holds onto Ricardo tighter until Sofia rushes out, stopping short a couple of feet away from the ring announcer, realizing that he's been through too much for such things. "Senor!" she cries, bridging the gap between them in a more reserved fashion, carefully cupping his face and staring into his eyes. "Oh, senor. I was so worried for you." She gently wraps her arms around him, feeling how he's trembling still. Murmuring to him in soft Spanish, she buries her face in his neck as he gingerly returns the embrace, nodding now and again to what she's saying.

Alberto waits patiently, one hand resting on Ricardo's back and the other on Memo's shoulder, smiling when the housekeeper finally realizes she's still clinging to him on the front stoop of the house and pulls back, flushing. "Come, Sofia, let's get him inside, hmm? He needs a shower, change of clothes, and some sleep. Sound good, mi amigo?" When Ricardo nods, she steps aside as Alberto helps him inside, the extent of everything even more visible in the front hall of the house. Even Alberto, who hadn't been able to see how bad everything truly is in the dreary building or the darkening world outside, is disturbed by it all, dirt and grime from the building not enough to hide the bruises and cuts along his face, rubbed raw skin on his arms from the zipties. He had obviously struggled hard through it all. "Oh, amigo," he breathes, his voice cracking as he wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer in a careful hug, shaking his head. "You're safe now, I promise."

Ricardo nods against him, breathing in deeply. "El Patron, I'm so tired."

"Si, of course, lo siento. Come, come." He guides him back to the bathroom and, putting the lid down, sits him down on the toilet before kneeling down until they're eye to eye. "Will you be able to clean up on your own? I can stay and help, if you need." When Ricardo shakes his head, he releases a soft breath. "Ok, mi amigo. I'll be nearby; if you need anything, call for me. Si?" Ricardo nods and Alberto claps his hands on his knees. "I'll be right outside." He stands and goes out into the hallway, taking deep breaths before fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Hello, Dr. Phillips? I need you to drop everything and get over here. I will pay you three times your normal fee..."

He's off of the phone and waiting when Ricardo finally ventures out of the bathroom, wrapped up snugly in a large towel and looking somewhat better with the blood and grime washed off of him. Alberto swallows as he catches a better look at the bruising, reaching out for him. "Oh, amigo," he sighs. "Come, let's get you some clothes and get you comfortable, si?" When Ricardo nods, he smiles faintly and leads him down the hall, fighting to hold back his emotions as he takes in his ring announcer finally safe and secure in his own bedroom once more. "SIt down, I'll be back in a moment," he tells him, making sure he gets settled in on the bed before heading for the closet.

He can hear Ricardo shifting around on the bed behind him but it's not enough, his hating having the man out of his sight for even a moment after everything, so he collects the first shirt he sees and some comfortable pants before snagging some boxers out of the dresser that he walks past. "Here," he whispers to the other man, handing over the clothes and helping as needed, Ricardo still a little off-balanced and shaky. He grins a little when he realizes he'd inadvertantly grabbed one of his own merch shirts, helping to pull it on over Ricardo's head as he shudders against the darkness. His smile disappears when the shirt is in place and he catches the fear in the younger man's eyes, immediately squeezing his arm. "Alright?"

"I'm alright, it's just- just... I couldn't see anything since they left me bound all the time, and..." He sniffs and scrubs at his face. "El Patron..."

Alberto sighs, pulling him closer. "You're ok, mi amigo. Lo siento, I should've thought of that. We'll leave the lamp on while you rest, si? Will that help, do you think?" Ricardo nods against him and he smiles. "Ricardo, I know you want to go to sleep, but... well, I've called in my doctor to look you over, and I believe Sofia is fixing food for us all. Can you stay awake a little while longer?"

"Si, I'll try," he agrees, scrubbing at his face. "I'm not very hungry though..."

"That's fine, as long as you just get _something_ down," Alberto tells him with a sad smile. "Those criminals probably didn't bother feeding you..." When Ricardo shakes his head, Del Rio sighs. "Si, just a little something to eat, and my doctor will examine you quickly just to make sure that nothing serious is going on, and then you can sleep undisturbed as long as you like, mi amigo. Sound good?"

"Si, El Patron." He hesitates. "Um, I can make it to the kitchen-"

"No, you're fine where you're at." Alberto shakes out the sheets, waiting for him to settle himself against the bedding before drawing them up his legs. "I want you to rest while I go get the food. I'll be back in a moment."

"Alright," Ricardo agrees, watching as his employer leaves the room quietly, his eyes glancing around the room in some anxiety. He feels vulnerable, like the shadows outside of his room are alive, full of people watching, waiting for an opportunity to grab him- but no, the police had caught the men. Right? He's perfectly safe... At least, he keeps telling himself that while waiting for his employer to return.

When there's a knock at the front door, he jerks and stands from the bed, hands tense in front of his chest defensively, as if he expects an attack at any moment. "Ay," he groans when he hears the door open and Sofia, then Alberto, talking before a strange voice joins theirs. He thinks it's the doctor that Del Rio had mentioned, but he's not sure and uncertainty feels like a crushing weight on his chest right now. "No, no, no," he murmurs, backing away into the shadows as the voices grow louder, now right outside of his bedroom.

When the door's opened, Alberto blinks inside, surprised to find Ricardo's bed empty. "Eh, amigo?" He turns. "Perhaps he went to the bathroom, excuse me." He inches inside and looks around, finally finding the younger man in the shadows. "Ricardo? What are you doing out of bed?" He approaches him, stopping when the ring announcer flinches away. "Whoa, whoa, mi amigo, it's just- it's just me." He reaches out and rests a hand on his upper arm, feeling how he's trembling. "What's wrong? Hmm?"

"El Patron?" Ricardo mumbles, allowing himself to be dragged back to the bed. "I- I heard... strange voices and thought..." He swallows, eyes trailing around the room anxiously. "Um. Lo siento, I just... wasn't thinking. Who- who's here?"

"Oh amigo," Alberto sighs, realizing just what the younger man must've thought. "It's my doctor. Remember? He's here to look you over. Is that alright?" He waits as recognition crosses Ricardo's face, clapping his shoulder carefully. "May I ask him to come in, then?" When Ricardo nods slowly, he smiles and stands. "Doctor? Come in por favor."

The ring announcer relaxes all the more as he recognizes the man, stammering out another apology as the doctor sets to work, gently examining his wrists and head, running his hands along his spine and up his neck before cleaning and bandaging the wounds where the zipties had bit into his skin, talking quietly through the whole process about the weather and other simple, easy topics, his low voice soothing and distracting as he then turns to cleaning Ricardo's split lip and the other minor injuries he can see on his face. Once done, he pulls back and smiles at the young man. "There, how does that feel? Did I miss anything?"

"No, I... don't believe so," Ricardo answers. "Gracias, I feel a little better." And he honestly does, his wrists throbbing less and less thanks to the creams soothing the discomfort he'd been feeling for awhile now. When Alberto stares at him, curious about his sincerity, he merely smiles, nodding at his employer that, yes, he honestly means it.

Del Rio's eyes soften as he strokes a hand down the ring announcer's hair, smoothing it back. "I'm glad, mi amigo. Wait here, I'll see the doctor out and be back in a few moments with food." As soon as Ricardo nods, he leads Dr. Phillips to the front door. "Gracias, Doctor. I'll be in contact if anything else comes up."

"That will be fine," he just manages to say, stepping out onto the front step in time to keep the door from slapping against his heels as Alberto closes it behind him with a decisive click, clearly anxious to get back to his best friend.

Holding a plate of ham sandwiches, Sofia following behind him with a tray full of glasses of ice water, Alberto collects his brother from the living room before the three of them peek into the bedroom, relieved to find Ricardo alright, if looking a little sleepy. "Hey, amigo, you stayed awake." Del Rio smiles at his best friend, settling the plate down on the nearby table before taking a couple of glasses from the housekeeper, thanking her. "Here, amigo. Sandwiches and ice water. Look alright?"

He nods, smiling tiredly as Sofia settles in next to him, quietly running her fingers through his hair. Alberto sits on the other side of him, handing him a sandwich and one of the glasses. Memo takes up his place towards the bottom of the bed, none of them talking much while they eat, Ricardo only taking small bites now and again, enjoying the water more than the actual food, everything since he'd been freed moving too quickly for him to even think about just how _thirsty_ he'd been. "Gracias," he murmurs, starting to nod off after barely eating half of the sandwich.

Alberto quietly leans over and plucks the food from his slack fingers, dropping it on his plate before easing Ricardo down against the mattress so he looks more comfortable. "Si, de nada, amigo. Rest well." None of them are in a hurry to move, watching while he falls into a heavy sleep, Sofia tsking softly under her breath as some of the discomfort finally leaves his face.

After a restless night for them all, morning dawns lazily, soft sunlight streaming in through Ricardo's bedroom windows, Memo blinking against the light as he shifts and stares down at the ring announcer, releasing a soft breath. He's just stood up and gone to the window, staring out at the dewy grounds, when he hears a soft moan, followed by a sharp gasp, turning quickly to find Ricardo struggling against his sheets, mumbling desperately.

"No, no, por favor- untie me, I won't- I won't tell anyone-"

Memo freezes for a moment before rushing back to the bed, resting a hand gingerly on the other man's arm. "Hey, hey, Ricardo- relax, you're safe," he says, carefully untangling him from the bedding so he doesn't hurt himself further, his wrists straining against the fabric- Memo works faster when he realizes- Ricardo must think, in the depths of his nightmare, that he's still held by the zipties... Finally he gets him free from the sheets and rests his hands down by his sides, staring up at him. "It's alright. Mi hermano will be back soon, he just has a phone call to wrap up." He hesitantly sits next to Ricardo and watches as he continues to restlessly toss his head back and forth, wishing he knew what to do to help him.

Finally he gasps and jerks himself awake, eyes wide and horrified as he looks all around, dark gaze finally locking on Alberto's younger brother. He groans and cups his face for a moment before peeking through his fingers. "Memo?"

"Si, Ricardo. Just breathe, you're safe." Memo gives him another moment to recollect himself before leaning forward. "Do you remember what happened?"

"You and El Patron rescued me," he murmurs. When Memo nods, smiling, he once more glances around the room, trembling a little. "Where- where _is_ El Patron?"

"He's talking to the police, he will be back in a few moments." Del Rio's little brother shifts, patting Ricardo on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mi amigo. Everything's fine."

"The police," Ricardo echoes, eyes now locked on Memo's. "Por favor, you- they... they caught the criminals, si? Please tell me that much." 

"Si!" Memo smiles through his own sadness at seeing Ricardo look so broken, weary, feeling responsible for each moment of pain and fear that the ring announcer had gone through. "Of course, we are all safe. Soon there'll be a trial and they'll be put away, unable to hurt anyone else ever again."

Ricardo swallows, anxiously fussing with the gauze wrapped around his wrists. "Will- Will I be needed to testify?"

Before Memo could answer, Ricardo's door pokes open and there's Alberto, Sofia hovering behind him, a bright grin spreading across his lips as he sees his best friend awake. "Amigo! Buenos dias," he says softly, venturing inside. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Buenos dias," Ricardo says, growing more flustered when Memo moves aside and his employer takes the place next to him on the bed. "Eh, eh. I'm alright, I suppose." He smiles waveringly as Alberto rubs his arm. "You- you're alright? Memo mentioned you were on the phone with the police..."

"Si!" Del Rio nods. "I'm fine, mi amigo, and yes, I did contact the police. I wanted whatever information they could give me on those criminals we helped them capture last night." He smiles as Ricardo gapes at him, hand still warm on his upper arm as he tries to explain. "Memo was a diversion while I got you out of there, but he was also keeping them busy while we waited for the police to arrive. As soon as they did, he returned to us in the car. Remember?"

"That's why you were waiting with me, and not off helping him," Ricardo realizes as Alberto nods, Memo looking quite pleased with himself and the success of their plan. "I'm just glad you're both ok."

"And we you, amigo," Del Rio tells him, smiling slightly as his brother nods behind him. "Are you up for some breakfast?"

"Eh," he sighs. "I- um. What did the police say?" When Alberto seems reluctant to go into it, he reaches out and rests a hand on his employer's, squeezing. "Por favor, I need to know. I won't be able to eat until... until I know. Are they going to be put behind bars?"

"I discussed with the detective how serious it is that those... those criminals do not get bail," he explains quietly. "He told me that the DA agrees and will be urging the judge to send them straight to lock up until the trial can be set, with no chance for bail." He pats Ricardo's hand. "We will be safe, mi amigo. They can't harm any of us anymore."

"Gracias," Ricardo sighs, his eyes still downcast. "Erm, El Patron... will I- will I be required to testify when it goes to... to court?"

Alberto licks his lips, looking over at his brother for a moment before cupping the ring announcer's face, drawing him up to look him in the eye. "I highly doubt it will be necessary, mi amigo. Memo and the man's sister will tell all that they know, and I will testify too if they request it. That should be enough-"

But Ricardo shakes his head desperately. "El Patron, I _want_ to testify, if it ensures that those men will be put behind bars. I, I heard their voices, and saw the man who was holding me when you rescued me, si? I heard names and, and-"

Alberto immediately holds a hand up, stopping Ricardo's onslot of words. "Ok, amigo, ok. I'll talk to the people assigned to the case and if they think its necessary, we'll take it from there. Alright?"

Ricardo nods, smiling weakly through his fear. Alberto tsks at him before running a hand through his hair, resolving again to do all he can to keep both his best friend and brother safe.

It takes months for the case to go to trial, and some days, Alberto _almost_ forgets until he sees Ricardo jump at any unexpected noise or have to take deep breaths, releasing it slowly anytime they're walking somewhere when it's dark and quiet to keep from hyperventilating. Memo, though seeming a bit more paranoid the rare time Alberto gets to see him thanks to WWE's travel schedule, is at least handling things a little better than Ricardo, understandably so.

They're all relieved when a trial date is finally set, the DA determining that Ricardo should testify, feeling that a first hand account of the kidnapping would more likely than not sway the jury better than whatever Memo or Alberto could say about that night. But if the wait for the trial had seemed unending, the actual process of jury selection and a number of other small things leading up to the testimony portion of the trial feels like full lifetimes are passing, the people called by prosecution sitting in side rooms, waiting for their chances to tell their stories.

Memo is called to testify first, all of them relieved that the process is finally starting, and Alberto sits and massages Ricardo's neck and shoulders as they wait in tense silence, the victim's sister sitting on the other side of the room, staring at her hands in subdued worry. Finally Memo's questioning ends and it's Alberto turn, expecting this not to take very long as he has even less to tell than his brother. "You're going to be just fine, mi amigo," Alberto soothes Ricardo before he goes. "It'll be all over very soon."

Ricardo sniffs and nods, watching as his employer follows the court officer out to take the stand, tell what little he knows. He'll be last, left all along until then, and when the court is called into recess after Alberto's testimony, he closes his eyes in disappointment, just wanting to get it over with so he could be back with Alberto and Memo, go home. Thankfully, it's short, and finally he's called in less than half an hour later, taking a breath as he follows the officer into the court room, where he vows to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God.

"Mr. Rodriguez, if you would please recount the night that you were abducted?" the prosecution asks, blue eyes boring into his.

He nods, closing his eyes. "Si," he says without thinking. "I mean, yes." He glances around anxiously, wishing that Alberto or Memo, someone, could be in the gallery, but... His gaze suddenly finds Sofia Cortez in the crowd of people witnessing the case and he gapes at her as she smiles encouragingly at him. Feeling a little stronger now, he takes a sip from the glass of water the prosecutor requests for him, finally finding the words. "I was at Full Sail University, where the company I work for, WWE, previously trained developmental wrestlers, when I heard footsteps behind me in the parking lot," he begins slowly. "I didn't think much of it at first, since many people park their cars there, but they were right behind me." He breathes deeply, trying to hold it together through the memories. "I turned, and- I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, strange voices were arguing that I was the wrong man, that they meant to grab Memo Montenegro."

"Memo Montenegro trained to become a wrestler at Full Sail University, is that correct?" the woman asks.

"Yes," he nods.

She gives him a moment before prompting, "What happened then, Mr. Rodriguez?"

"Um." He takes another nervous sip of water, staring out at Sofia. "They, uh. They figured out who I was and who I worked for and called my employer, trying to use me in a trade to avoid all of the criminal charges pending against them, since they knew he had the means and finances to accomplish this. They even put me on the phone with Mr. Del Rio once, but it was just a way to force his hand." He closes his eyes, shaking his head, not wanting to see the sadness in Sofia's gaze any longer. "Things are blurry after that, but- I remember when my employer came to rescue me."

"What did you see?"

"When, when Mr. Del Rio freed me from the bounds and gag, I saw a man on the ground and the room they'd been holding me in."

The prosecutor nods. "Can you point out the man you saw? Is he in the court room today?"

Ricardo nods wearily and points at one of the surly men sitting behind the defense's table, glaring at him. "He is," he forces out, trembling slightly.

"I see. Did you hear any of your captor's names spoken while you were being held?"

"Yes," he responds after a moment. "Danny and Leo were two I heard quite often."

Everyone's eyes take in the defense attorney's darkening gaze as his opposition nods. "Daniel Mariocho and Leo Travis," she offers, smiling as Ricardo nods warily. "Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez. Defense's witness, your honor."

As she sits back down, the whole court room waits to see what the defense will do but Ricardo only takes a deep breath and once more stares out at Sofia, who smiles again at him comfortingly.

Alberto is starting to grow anxious about how long Ricardo's testimony is taking, wanting badly to pace around but unable to as the security guard at the door doesn't look like he'd appreciate that too much, but thankfully the wait comes to an abrupt end as Ricardo is shown out of the courtroom, smiling faintly at his waiting employer and Memo. "Mi amigo!" Del Rio exclaims, getting to his feet as soon as he spots him. "How did it go?"

Ricardo's growing smile is more than a little shaky as he's drawn to his best friend's side, Memo quickly getting to his feet to join them. "I think as well as can be expected," he hedges, eyes wide as he looks back and forth between the two men, trying to relax enough to be soothed by their familiar presences. "It's over now, right, El Patron?"

Alberto sighs, not wanting to promise anything until the case is done and those criminals are where they belong, but there's such a fearful look in Ricardo's eyes that he finally concedes, hugging his best friend close, resting his jaw against the top of Ricardo's head as he presses his face against his collarbone. "Si, mi amigo. It's all over. I'm so proud of you." None of them move for awhile longer until Alberto pulls away to stare Ricardo in the eye. "Come, let's go home."

"Si," he and Memo murmur together, getting to relax in the comfort of Alberto's large house sounding better and better. Alberto glances over after stopping at a red light and smiles fondly upon finding his best friend fast asleep in the passenger's seat of his car, his features more lax than they'd been ever since he was found in the abandoned warehouse.

They're all anxious as the jury takes their time in reaching a verdict, the days following their testimony drawing on longer and longer until finally... it's announced that charges of all kinds, too many to count, are being levied against the individuals, with sentencing to be decided within days. Alberto grins as the four of them hear the news, quickly drawing his brother and best friend in for a tight hug, Sofia pulling Ricardo into one of her own as soon as the Mexican aristocrat releases him.

"We're all safe now," he whispers to her.

"Si, we are, senor," she smiles as she pulls back and cups his face, staring at him intently. "You were so brave. I am so proud of you."

"We all are," Alberto nods, squeezing his shoulder. "Very, Ricardo."

He smiles too a little, fully relieved for the first time in months now that they can all begin to move past this, put it behind them. "Gracias. For everything. I wouldn't have made it this far without all of your support..."

Del Rio shakes his head fondly as he steps closer to the ring announcer, Memo hovering nearby as he looks on, still somewhat guilty about everything his brother's best friend had gone through. "It was the least we could do, amigo." Memo and Sofia nod in agreement, Ricardo's eyes gleaming in thankfulness as he glances around at the three people so steadfast in helping him through everything that had happened, and what remains as they ease back into normalcy slowly.


End file.
